


It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

by VictoriaMay



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Based on Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, Carry On by Rainbow Rowell - Freeform, Carry On: The Rise And Fall of Simon Snow, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas oneshot, Eleanor Calder - Freeform, Elounor, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry Styles as Baz, Kissing, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson as Simon, M/M, Magic, Merry Christmas, Oneshot, Past Eleanor Calder/Louis Tomlinson, Smooch Smooch Bitch, Wizards, Yall they kiss, and a happy new year, and this is VERY loosely based on carry on, inspired by Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, larry stylinson - Freeform, larry stylinson oneshot, lonely, louis is bad at magic, one direction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-22 03:32:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13158381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaMay/pseuds/VictoriaMay
Summary: NOTE: I have my own custom workskin on this work. I believe that if you enable it, the work will make more sense. But, to each their own. Cheers!This work is inspired by and based on “Carry On” by Rainbow Rowell





	It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I have my own custom workskin on this work. I believe that if you enable it, the work will make more sense. But, to each their own. Cheers!
> 
>  
> 
> This work is inspired by and based on “Carry On” by Rainbow Rowell

#### It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas

##### VictoriaMay

##### 12-25-17

It was hardly the end of October when the Watford staff decided to resurrect the gigantic Christmas tree that sits in the foyer. Louis had watched as one by one the employees had delicately placed the branches on the long stem of the artificial tree, watching them as they tied it to a railing to keep it from toppling over. The bright red and white lights swooped gracefully across the branches, ornate ornaments accompanied by gigantic doves resting idly upon the tree. Louis’ favorite part was when one worker climbed the largest ladder known to man to place the gleaming golden star on top of the tree. Louis wouldn’t like to admit it, but he thought that it was beautiful. 

 

As much as Louis loves to insist that he isn’t much of a holiday person—mostly because this year he is unable to visit his family—Christmas fills him with such a wonderful and brilliant joy. He loves the bright lights on the tree, the wreaths on every door, and the mistletoe placed sneakily atop every entry way by snickering eighth-years. Louis himself is but only a sixth year, desperately awaiting the day that he can escape Watford… and his roommate. 

 

Louis sighs as he thinks of Harry. They were assigned roommates their first year at Watford by the Crucible. At first, Louis was extremely excited to meet the boy that he would be living with for the next eight years of his life, but, alas, this all quickly changed. Louis and Harry did not get along. At all. It was almost comical, really. Louis’ best friend Liam teased him about it all the time. About how they bickered like an old married couple, how they played endless pranks against one another, and about how when the other wasn’t looking they would stare at each other ~~lovingly~~ spitefully. Louis was sure that it was a game to Harry, that Harry lived to make Louis miserable. Initially, they had requested that they had a change in roommates, but the rules are sealed. Once the Crucible assigns a roommate, the arrangement is set in stone. 

 

Now it is nearing the end of December, the twenty-third to be exact. Tomorrow is Louis’ birthday, and he oh so desperately wishes to be home with his family. He has gone home every year since he has attended Watford, but this year his family was traveling overseas, a feat that Louis is unable to afford, not to mention that his stepfather—the man who was _supposed_ to buy Louis’ plane ticket—hates him. It makes Louis heart ache, really, as he thinks of how happy his friends will be to arrive home. Liam had been gushing about it for weeks—about how excited he was to see his family and girlfriend. That’s another thing. 

 

Louis just recently broke up with his girlfriend, Eleanor. Or, rather, she broke up with him. All it took was Louis spotting her snogging that bastard—Harry—under the mistletoe no less— for her to end their three year relationship right in front of everyone in the hall. Louis was devastated of course, he had planned that he would spend his birthday with Eleanor. She had agreed to these plans, and that later in the day she would leave for her mother’s house, but apparently plans change. People move on… and Louis is okay with that… He guesses. 

 

The cloud that had been hanging over his head for the past week was not his final exams, but the revelation of who _was_ going to be staying at Watford this year. Harry. Of _course_ he would be, after all, for every year since his mother died he has had no one to go home to. As much as Louis despises Harry and his curly head, he cannot help but admit how sad Harry’s story is. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose anyone in his family—much less his mother, his rock. 

 

He sighed as he trudged back to his dorm. He had just finished his final exam, an exam that he failed. Louis had never been good at magic, in fact, he was just plain awful. He was supposed to be brilliant at it—he _was_ the Magi’s biological son—but the truth was that he was terrible. Harry—Louis just shudders at his name—calls him “The worst Chosen One that’s ever been chosen.” Louis always rolls his eyes—not only at Harry himself but at the nickname ‘Chosen One,’ but it’s the truth. Louis _is_ the worst ‘Chosen One’ that’s ever been chosen. Louis doesn’t want to be the ‘Chosen One’—the one that has to fight the Humdrum, trust me, he really doesn’t want to—but he was chosen. The worst wizard of all time was the chosen one. The wizard who couldn’t manage to get his wand to work was the chosen one. The wizard who set at least two accidental fires a week with his own magic was the chosen one.

 

Louis hates to admit it, but he thinks that Harry would be a much better chosen one. He was at the top of the class, always mastered his spells first, and was, quite frankly, brilliant. Louis was jealous of him, of how easy it is for Harry to be talented, charming, funny, and wonderful. God, was he wonderful. But Louis can’t help but hate his guts. Thank _goodness_ Harry feels the same. Louis doesn’t know what he would do if Harry didn’t. 

 

Louis finally reached his room at eleven o’clock. He had gone to the train station with Liam earlier in the day, and now he was exhausted—both physically and emotionally. It had hit him all at once that he would be at Watford—alone—for two weeks. Hardly anyone stays at Watford, Harry being the only person he knows. Louis knows it must be awful to spend every holiday and every birthday alone, only memories to keep him company. Louis wonders if he does schoolwork the entire time, or if he actually has friends to accompany him. 

 

Louis stuck his key in the door, sighing when it doesn’t open right away. It wasn’t the first time that Harry jammed the door so that Louis is unable to get in. Louis rests his forehead against the door, brokenly raising his fist to knock upon it. “Harry, please let me in,” Louis says, tears rising once again to his eyes. It had been an emotional day, and at this point, Louis is too tired and upset to control himself. “C’mon Harry, I’m tired.”

 

Louis heard rustling coming from the inside of the room, impatiently tapping his fingers on the door. He closed his eyes as he waited, knowing Harry was making a show of opening the entrance to their room. When the door finally opened, he pulled his forehead away and stood up straight. The door swung open, revealing Harry in a black shirt, brown hair curly as ever. His hair hadn’t been cut in a while, Louis noticed, and it was almost reaching his shoulders. His cheeks were flushed from God-knows-what, eyes wide and green. 

 

“Didn’t know you’d be back so soon,” is all Harry said, looking Louis up and down. Louis knew he was judging him, whether it be his hair or his clothing or just his face. Louis watched as Harry stepped lightly into the doorway, leaning against the frame with his shoulder while crossing his arms. “So why should I let you in?” 

 

Louis rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as well. He tried not to stare as Harry’s arms bulged from under his T-shirt, knowing that Harry would notice. Liam had made sure to tell Louis that Harry was always paying attention, and that he never missed a detail. “You knew that I would be home late tonight. Can we just pick this up tomorrow? I’m not in the mood,” Louis replied, staring into Harry’s eyes. He watched as Harry stared back, scanning over Louis’ entire face. 

 

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” Harry decided to ask, almost frantically. Louis rolled his eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that Harry cared. At Louis’ lack of answer, Harry lightly grabbed Louis chin, tilting it upward so that he could examine Louis’ face better. “You’ve been crying.” 

 

Louis forcefully pulled his chin out of Harry’s grasp, uncrossing his arms. “Let me through please, I am not in the mood.” When Harry didn’t budge, Louis pushed ~~gently~~ against Harry’s chest, surprising himself when Harry actually moved. Harry was about three or four inches taller than Louis, and way more muscular. Of course, it wasn’t a surprise. Harry made a point to annoy Louis by waking up at the crack of dawn to work out, always making sure that he would awake Louis with his obnoxious music. As soon as he heard Harry close the door, Louis was stripping his shirt off. He quickly opened his wardrobe to pull out a set of pajamas, also known as a t-shirt and sweats. He could feel Harry’s eyes on his back as he changed, glancing over his body over and over again. It made Louis slightly self conscious, knowing that Harry was probably judging the fact that he wasn’t completely built with muscle. 

 

As soon as he was changed he hopped into his bed. The way that their room was situated, first came the door, then their twin beds resting against either wall of the room, and then their wardrobes standing behind their beds. The walls of the room were painted white, mostly for versatility, with the carpet brown. He immediately covered his entire body with his comforter, pulling the blanket up to his nose to diminish the lingering kiss of the cold wind. Harry had taken Louis preoccupation with his bed as a chance to change into his own pajamas, grabbing a pair of black sweats and another t-shirt. Louis tried to pry his eyes away from Harry’s back as he flexed to pull his shirt off, but it was if he was frozen. Suddenly, Harry turned around, holding his new shirt in his hands. 

 

“Like what you see?” Harry asked slyly, smirking. Louis gulped, finding the strength to pull his eyes away, choosing to fix his eyes instead on the loose thread of his comforter. Harry laughed when Louis didn’t answer, both of their cheeks flushing. Louis because he was embarrassed, Harry because he was flattered. It didn’t take long for Louis to doze off, eyes drifting shut just as Harry entered his own bed. Although, even as he was being welcomed into the sweet comfort of sleep, he felt the same green eyes on him. 

 

—

 

When Louis woke up, it was at ten o’clock on the morning of his birthday. He almost smiled—every child always wishes to be older—until he realized that he wasn’t awake in his childhood bedroom, but instead in an unwanted dormitory with a roommate staring at him with wild eyes. “Happy birthday,” Harry said, continuing to stare at Louis exhaust ridden face, his arms tucked behind his back. 

 

“Thanks,” Louis muttered, reaching for his phone. He scrolled through the few missed text messages that he had, all either from Liam, his mother, or his sisters. He wished that someone was here with him, someone other than that curly, maniacal Harry Styles. Louis peeked his toes out of the comforter, shivering at the cold that he’s met with. At the sight of his discomfort, Harry smiled. “Oh, you like me nice and cold, eh? Sod off!” Louis snapped, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t help but be a little bit grumpy do to his lack of home and family. Harry’s eyes dropped to his own feet at Louis’ comments, pulling from behind his back a blue back with white tissue paper flying from the top. 

 

“No, I uh—I got you something,” Harry replied, holding it out to Louis to grab. 

 

“I don’t want whatever critter you have stuffed in that bag, Styles.” Louis remarked, one again rolling his eyes. He sat up in his bed, leaning against the wall it’s pressed against. He rubbed his eyes, yawning, watching as Harry kept his arm outstretched in an invitation for Louis to take the bag.

 

“I promise it’s not an animal, it’s not… Just open it,” Harry tried, approaching Louis bed. He set the bag atop Louis’ blanket, walking backwards onto his own bed to watch Louis open the gift. Louis squinted his eyes, reaching for present. 

 

“You can’t blame me for being suspicious…” Louis stated, starting to pull the tissue paper from the bag piece by piece, watching out for slime or remnants of any kind. 

 

“I know… It’s just that you don’t have to be. Not this time,” Harry replied, anxiously waiting for Louis to open it. He was, admittingly, a little bit nervous. He knew that Louis didn’t like him, that they were always bickering and playing pranks on one another, but he desperately wished that that would change. When he heard that Louis was going to spend Christmas alone, to spend Christmas at Watford, his heart almost burst out of his chest. He was sad for Louis, he knew what it was like to spend Christmas away from family, especially when you don’t have a choice. But he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the chance to redeem himself, for the chance to maybe not spend Christmas alone again. He had felt the same feeling when Eleanor broke up with Louis right after kissing Harry under the mistletoe. Sympathetic, yet thankful.

 

Don’t get Harry wrong, he never wanted to kiss Eleanor. In Harry’s opinion, her hair is always oily and she stinks of cheap perfume. God knows why, her father is filthy rich. Not to mention, her fashion sense is all off. Harry cringes at the memory of Eleanor’s frilly pink and green dress. No, Eleanor had spotted Harry walking under the entryway for his third period class, gasping when she saw him pause to check his phone. 

 

_“Oh, Harry!” Eleanor had called, jogging after him. Harry waited under the entryway, unaware of the unfortunate events to come. “You look great today.”_

 

_Harry rolled his eyes at her attempt at flirting. Her lip gloss was too pink, eyes too brown. He had always preferred blue eyes, if he was honest. “What do you want, Eleanor?” Harry asked, about to start to walk. He saw that he was blocking the way of students entering the classroom. Harry had always been a polite boy, and besides, he saw Louis approaching the classroom, lifting his arm to wave at Eleanor. No way did Harry want to be caught in the middle of their snog-fest._

 

_Suddenly, Eleanor grabbed Harry’s shoulders, too quickly for him to dodge her. “A kiss,” is all she said, dragging his face towards her while lunging forward. She caught him by surprise, pulling him into a highly unwanted kiss. Her lip gloss coated lips stuck to the top of his chin, thoroughly repulsing him. Her kiss was too wet—too slimy with lip gloss—and Harry wanted to vomit. He lurched away from her, eyes wide and alert. He scanned the crowd for Louis, knowing that he must have seen the events that occurred just moments ago._

 

_And there he was. It was almost like a movie scene, really. Louis stood gaping in the middle of the crowd, the flood of people flowing around him and towards the classroom. Harry watched as Eleanor released him, strutting over to Louis in her ugly, orange dress. If Harry hadn’t been so shocked already, he would be critiquing her outfit heavily, texting the gory details back to his one friend back home, Niall. Instead, Harry watched as in front of the entire sixth year class, Eleanor broke up with Louis. Right there, right there in the hall. Harry had always thought—no, Harry had always known—that Louis deserved better than Eleanor, than her sticky, wet kisses. So Harry stood there shocked—relieved at how single Louis now was, but shocked—as Eleanor pranced back to where Harry was pressed against the wall and had the audacity to grab ahold his arm, the same way she had previously held Louis. “Harry, you wouldn’t mind walking me to class, would you?” She asked, batting her eyelashes up at him._

 

_“Actually, I would.” Harry shook her dry, unmoisturized hand off of his new button up shirt, shaking his head at the state of her cuticles. As if…_

 

Louis’ voice shook Harry from the memory haunting his mind. 

 

“You look disturbed, Harry. Are you sure there isn’t anything in this bag I should be afraid of?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry shook his head, clasping his hands together and resting them on his lap. 

 

“I’m positive,” He replied, waiting for Louis to finally see the gift. When Louis finally reached the present, he was a bit confused. He pulled a package of thick, blue socks out from the bag holding them in front of his face. He ran his hands up and down the fabric, fingers judging the comfort and softness of the material. To his surprise, they were actually soft—the softest socks he had ever owned. 

 

“Socks?” Louis asked, continuing to examine the clothing. He poked his fingers into each entry, making sure there weren’t any bugs—or mice—nestling within the footwear. He slid them out of the packaging, pulling them immediately onto his feet. His toes, previously tinged with the bitter cold of the room (which Harry insisted be fifty-eight degrees, no more no less), immediately warmed due to the present. He sighed in contentment, looking at Harry with his eyebrows raised. “Again, socks? They aren’t enchanted right? I’m not going to start doing silly little dances for you like a leprechaun?”

 

“No, no, they aren’t enchanted. I uh,” Harry started clearing his throat. He unclasped and clasped his hands again, fiddling with his sweatpants drawstrings. “I see you every morning peeking your toes out from under the comforter to test the cold, and besides that your feet are always cold in general. So, I uh, I thought that you might like some nice socks. So that, you know, you wouldn’t have to worry about how cold your feet are, or how cold the room is. Because I know that it, you know, annoys you sometimes how cold I like to keep it.” Harry blushed, realizing how idiotic he was sounding. He looked down at his hands, awaiting Louis response, knowing that it would be teasing and condescending. To his surprise, a reply never came. 

 

He looked up at Louis, blinking when blue eyes met his own. If Harry didn’t know any better, he would think that Louis was crying. Harry didn’t want to make things more awkward than it already was, but he really couldn’t help himself. “And because, you know, you aren’t at home this year. I know what it’s like to be alone for a birthday, for Christmas,” Harry glanced back down at his hands. “It probably won’t be a while until your gifts from your family make back here at Watford, so I thought that you would like at least one gift on your real birthday. Because—yeah. Just because.”

 

Louis was gaping. He couldn’t have expected this from Harry, his arch nemesis. He was awestruck with how thoughtful Harry was, how it actually almost seemed like he cared. Louis stared down at his feet, wiggling his toes from within his brand new socks. “That’s…” Louis started watching as Harry looked up, hopefully. “That’s actually really sweet. Thank you, Harry. Really.” Louis raised his head fully, smiling at Harry, eyes gleaming. Harry smiled back, relieved at Louis’ reaction. He didn’t want to seem too crazy, too obsessive.

 

“I’m glad you like it,” Harry said, continuing to smile. He admired the crinkles in Louis’ eyes as he grinned, his blue eyes lit up with happiness. He is overcome with joy at the fact that he caused that happiness, that brightness. Harry turned, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. 

 

“Oh, you’re leaving?” Louis asked, looking surprisingly upset about Harry’s departure. He slid out from under his comforter, placing his feet on the ground. He stood up—slowly but surely— looking Harry in the eyes. “So soon?” Louis walked closer to Harry until he was standing directly in front of him, proudly displaying their height difference as he gradually had to look upward. 

 

“I mean… yeah. I already had my breakfast… you might want to make sure the staff knows you’re still coming. They usually close up early and make less food because of the lack of students. I was just going to go uh.. study,” Harry responded, looking down upon Louis. Louis’ eyelashes fluttered across his cheekbones, Harry having a perfect view from above him. He moved to put his hands behind his back, joining them together behind himself. 

 

“Oh, alright. I’ll see you later, I guess,” Louis responded, moving backwards. He immediately started to change clothes, probably so that he could go downstairs to get some breakfast. Harry wouldn’t tell him that just in case Louis didn’t wake up on time, Harry fixed him a plate and hid it in his wardrobe. Thankfully Louis was awake, and he wouldn’t need to be aware of Harry’s secretly worried antics. Harry pulled his eyes from Louis form and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. He opened the door and walked out of the room without speaking, immediately striding towards the stairs.

Louis changed clothing, mind spinning with thoughts of this morning. He wasn’t aware that Harry could be so kind, so caring. Actually, that is a lie. Louis didn’t know that Harry could be so kind and caring to _him_. His mind swam with images of Harry’s smile, Harry’s eyes. He was so consumed with what had happened, he almost forgot about how Harry stole his girlfriend. When that despicable day rose to Louis’ attention, he scowled. He had an idea of who Harry was in his mind: a pale, curly headed bastard that lives to torment Louis; but now, after experiencing this morning, it was almost as if Harry was replaced by a clone. There are now two Harrys, two curly headed bastards but one is sweet, caring, and thoughtful. The other stole his girlfriend, jammed the door so that Louis had to sit in the hall, and practically poisoned Louis’ food their third year at school. Harry swore up and down that that last one wasn’t him, but Louis wasn’t buying it. 

 

Louis walked out the door, grabbing his keys and his wand. It didn’t take him long to reach the empty cafeteria, vats still full of uneaten, untouched food. It didn’t even appear that someone had taken a single scoop of any food, and Louis’ eyebrows cinched together. What had Harry eaten? Louis noticed that four pieces of bread were missing from a loaf on the counter, and the previous question was eliminated. He helped himself to a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. He sat alone at one of the tables, looking around at the decor silently. Bright lights adorned the ceiling, swooping down like a curtain closing a play. Plastic doves hung from strings, a spell giving them the illusion that they were flying. Louis rested his head against his empty fist as he ate, staring out the large windows decorating the walls. The snow was falling down profusely, exhibiting no signs of granting Watford Academy its mercy. 

 

Louis finished his food quickly, having no one to talk to, so he disposed of his plate. He mindlessly left the cafeteria, meandering through the Watford halls. The Christmas decor provided him no comfort, and instead it seemed as if the adornments were mocking him. Bright red lights, once beautiful and happy, glared at him like glowing red eyes lurking within the woods. Louis couldn’t find a single soul, not a single student to create conversation with. _‘Is this what Harry has gone through every single year?’_ Louis wondered to himself, continuing to look around. He stared out the ornate windows, eyes trained on the thick clumps of snow raining down upon the campus. Louis imagined it almost as a wall, trapping him inside of this dreaded school like Caesar at the Battle of Alesia. He wondered about Harry’s whereabouts, pondering what Harry does the entire two weeks that the student body is gone. Does he read? Sleep? Work out? Louis had no clue, he had hardly been awake an hour and he was already miserable. 

 

For the first time since his first year at Watford, Louis wondered if he and Harry could work out what struggles they had. ‘Struggles’ was putting it lightly, of course, mostly because Harry attempts to murder Louis at least once a month. A memory flashes in front of Louis’ vision, remembering how Harry unleashed a dragon in attempt to rid Watford of Louis. Thankfully, Louis was able to escape… after both he _and_ Harry were almost killed. Louis settled on spending a few hours in the library. Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t spending any time on schoolwork. He was just so lonely and miserable that even a small ‘Hello’ from the librarian brought a little bit of light to his day. He nestled into one of the couches sitting next to the window, laying his head on an itchy decorative pillow. His boredom was consuming him, and before he knew it, he was floating down into the warm embrace of sleep.

 

—

 

It had hardly felt like a second before Louis was being shaken awake. A deep voice slowly coaxed him away from his slumber as large hands encompassed his shoulders while shaking him to consciousness. “Louis, Lou,” the voice continued, until Louis finally opened his eyes. He was met with—once again—flushed cheeks and wide, green eyes. “Louis. You’ve been snoring up a storm,” Harry said, hands still on Louis’ shoulders. 

 

Louis blushed. Had he really been snoring that loud? He didn’t even know that he snored. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He scooted further back into the couch, Harry letting go of his shoulders. 

 

“It’s fine, just uh… just keep it down, alright?” Harry said, already starting to back away. The feel of Harry’s touch still lingered on Louis’ shoulders, and as Harry retreated Louis wished that he hadn’t pulled away. 

 

“Harry, wait,” Louis said, sitting up on the couch. He knows that despite Harry doing a single nice thing earlier today, he probably still despises Louis. But, alas, Louis is so incredibly lonely and bored that he would spend the entire two weeks in Harry’s company. Louis has always needed attention—he thrived on it—even if it’s Harry’s yelling and screaming that’s being inflicted upon him. “Can we...Can I sit with you?” 

 

Harry stares at Louis incredulously. Louis doesn’t really blame him, he would be surprised too if Harry randomly asked if he could enjoy Louis’ company. Harry, much to Louis’ dismay, didn’t answer right away. He just stared at Louis, and then at his own hands. When he finally opened his mouth, he was already walking away. “No.” 

 

Louis bolted up out of his seat, jogging to keep up with Harry’s stride. “Why not? We are practically the only ones here. It makes sense that we would spend some time together… so that we aren’t alone,” Louis said, trying to get Harry to concede. He knew that to some degree, Harry pitied Louis and his situation. Maybe by appealing to that Lonely-Louis strategy, Harry would agree to Louis’ proposition. Louis finally reached Harry, taking freakishly long strides in order to keep up with him without jogging. Harry loved to hold Louis’ height over his head, constantly tormenting him about it. Louis scowled as he remembered the time two years ago when he woke up completely dyed blue. _“Now you’re not just the size of a smurf, but the color of one too!”_ Harry had cackled, holding his own wand triumphantly. Louis almost changed his mind about spending the day with Harry when thinking about that memory. Almost. 

 

“You hate me, why would you want to spend the day with me?” Harry decides to ask. He had been struggling to hide his emotions from Louis the past few minutes, trying not to call out _“Yes! Spend the day with me! The entire two weeks with me!”_ He didn’t want Louis to be scared off by his feelings, he knew that Louis absolutely despised him—despite him for some reason asking for Harry’s attention—and he really didn’t want Louis to catch on to how Harry felt about him. Harry could only imagine the mocking, the torture that would ensue from Louis discovering Harry’s little crush. Oh, who was Harry kidding, it wasn’t just a crush. He had loved Louis since they first stepped foot into their dormitory their first year, but for a young child who just lost his mother and moved into a foreign castle to go to school for eight years—not to mention a young child still discovering their sexuality—it can be hard to convey their feelings properly. Young, first year Harry, overcome with grief and confusion, took his struggles out on Louis and Louis alone. So that is how their rivalry started, Harry pulling silly pranks and lashing out on Louis in an effort to distract himself from his pain. It didn’t take Louis long to return the favor, soon causing them to forge an endless bond of distaste and cruelty. 

But don’t get Harry wrong. He didn’t just pull random pranks on Louis the past five years to keep up a charade. Louis genuinely pissed Harry off. Sure, Harry was madly in love with him, but Louis had a way of winding him so tight that he couldn’t help but explode. It still confuses Harry how he could be so incredibly fond of someone but still want to unleash a dragon upon them at any given moment. That’s love for you. 

 

“I was thinking… that maybe we could try to get over that? It’s been five years Harry, we’re teenagers, we have to get over it sometime. We can form a… a truce! We can write it up right now!” Louis responded, growing more and more excited as he spoke. He had hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Harry could be good friends. This break would be the perfect time to repair their bond, and possibly start all over again. Louis looked up at Harry, only to be met with his ~~fond~~ quizzical expression. 

 

“You… you want to be friends?” Harry asked, extremely surprised. He had been positive that Louis hated his guts. He pondered the idea of making a truce. He sort of liked his and Louis’ fights. He felt close to the boy, like they had passion, when they fought. But maybe, by becoming friends, they could create a new kind of passion. “I guess… We can try it,” Harry decided, almost excited to explore a new side of Louis. He had seen this cold front, an icy wall blocking him from getting to know Louis, but now the ice age is coming to an end. Louis ran to the closest empty table and sat down, looking at Harry expectantly. 

 

“What are you waiting for? Sit down! Get some pen and paper though! And oh, we can hang this in our dorm! And maybe Liam would enforce the rules—no, he would love that too much. You know Liam, don’t you! Of course you do, he’s always in our room, despite you always telling me to get him out of there. Hurry up!” Louis bombarded Harry with fast words and sentences. He rushed to grab some paper, quickly sitting down. He wondered if this is how Louis treated all of his friends, like if he didn’t say everything on his mind all at once they wouldn’t listen. Harry knew one thing for sure though: He would always be listening to Louis. 

 

“I think we should start with some rules. I’m not going to take pranks off the table, of course, but let’s maybe not unleash deadly dragons on each other, alright?” Louis started, causing Harry to blush. Harry still maintains that he didn’t release that dragon on purpose. “So let’s start the list.” 

 

They spent a little over an hour at that table, writing rules and discussing how far they will go. They bickered a little bit, threatening to call this whole thing off, but in the end they were exchanging jokes and laughing until Harry fell off of his chair. Louis had never seen Harry genuinely laugh. He had seen Harry cackle maniacally after watching Louis struggle to remove blue dye from his skin, but he had never seen Harry laugh. Needless to say, it was glorious. His smile would stretch across his face, dimples straining against his cheeks. His eyes would squint shut, and he would sway to either side of his chair while clutching his stomach. Not to mention the _sound_. Harry’s laugh was hilarious and contagious. It sounded like a honking goose, or a car horn, causing Louis to lose it laughing until he was red in the face as well. But in the end, they comprised a list: 

 

##### 1\. No pulling deadly pranks on one another

##### 2\. No pulling permanent/long lasting pranks on one another

##### 3\. No eating each other’s food without permission

#####  4\. Every fight must be talked through with one another 

##### 5\. No kissing one another’s girlfriends

 

Harry was a little bit bitter about that last one. He had tried to convince Louis that it wasn’t his fault, that Eleanor had kissed him without his permission, but Louis didn’t want to hear it. Harry also almost made Louis add “or boyfriends” to the last part of the list, but he didn’t want to make Louis’ uncomfortable. Harry wonders if he should be perfectly honest with Louis about his sexuality, but then again, he still isn’t sure if Louis will maintain this whole “friendship” thing. 

 

After they made the list, Harry suggested that they play a board game. He is usually alone every holiday, so all he can really do is his school work. Louis, thankfully, agrees to Harry’s proposition and goes to investigate what games the library has. When Louis is gone, Harry reminisces about the times that he and his mother would play board games by the fire on Christmas Eve, sipping hot chocolate and eating Christmas cookies. He remembers when she died, when his father decided that he didn’t want Harry to come home anymore, and when all he was able to bring to Watford from home was a blanket and a worn game of checkers. 

 

Harry snaps out of his haze when Louis bounds back to the table with several puzzles, hands void of any actual games to play. “I hate puzzles with a burning passion,” Louis states, slamming the puzzles on the table. Their list of ‘ground rules’ flutters off the table, landing on the gray carpet of the library. By the time that Harry has picked it up, Louis is already dumping the puzzle pieces all over the table, choosing one that is over a thousand pieces. Harry realizes that this activity could go one of two ways: either they talk the entire time they do the puzzle or they don’t talk at all. 

 

But who was Harry kidding, he was doing a puzzle with Louis Tomlinson. And that means that there wouldn’t be a second that Harry could get a word in edgewise. 

 

“And tomorrow I was thinking that we could eat breakfast together, and then maybe do another puzzle? What do you usually do when you’re here? It’s boring as hell, I’ll tell you what. There is no connection to the outer world other than that village a mile down. Once we finish this puzzle, I think I’ll go there for a while. Oh, and tomorrow, you better not wake me up with that freakish music you like to play at the crack of dawn. Harry, c’mon, what are you waiting for? Start making this puzzle!” Louis rambled, setting the lid of the box up so that the pair could see the picture. Harry stared at Louis for a few moments, wondering how Louis could so quickly go from despising Harry to inviting him to spend Christmas Day in his company. “Harry, I said get a move on!”

 

Harry laughed at Louis’ antics, at how hysterically flamboyant the boy is. He quickly started separating the edge and corner parts from the rest of the pieces, looking up curiously at Louis when he saw him immediately begin to latch together random pieces. “Uh… Lou? We should probably separate the edges and corners first, form the frame of the puzzle, and then fill it in… It’s just easier that way…” Harry started cautiously. He waited, worried and on edge, for Louis’ reaction, unsure on what to expect. Louis lifted his eyes from the two pieces that obviously didn’t fit together, staring at Harry dead on. 

 

“Listen up, Harry,” Louis starts. His eyes seem to pierce Harry’s, making Harry actually worry about whether or not he actually offended Louis. Harry knows _very_ little about Louis himself, except for his love of pranks and banter. All he knows is that right about now, he looks like a deer in headlights, waiting for his upcoming doom. “You can do you’re ‘easy strategy’ and whatever, but I am a puzzle master. Stay in your lane, boy,” Louis concluded, moving back to his two pieces, still attempting to fit them together. Harry rolled his eyes, not even daring to comment on how the ‘puzzle master’ said that he hates puzzles five minutes ago, going back to separating the edges from the middle parts. 

 

Harry could only handle so much though. He couldn’t help it, he and Louis were just complete, total opposites. Soon after Harry organized the pieces and started working on the frame, Louis grabbed hand fulls of pieces from both piles and scrambled them together, struggling to join pieces that don’t connect. At first, Harry was able to take a few deep breaths and write it off. But as soon as he finished the frame with the exception of the few pieces that Louis had, followed by Louis’ refusal to hand over those mentioned few pieces, Harry had a bit more trouble calming down. “Louis, all I need are those few pieces so that I can finish the outside of puzzle. Could you please hand them over?” Harry really tried to be kind. Turns out, becoming friends with Louis was harder than he thought. 

 

“I’m working with them, you can have them when I’m done,” Louis said, never looking up from the puzzle. Harry couldn’t handle it, he had a way of doing things, an organized way, and Louis was disregarding it. The two of them both understood that Louis wouldn’t be handing those pieces over any time soon. His blood was practically boiling, he knew that Louis was annoying him on purpose and that he was trying to fire Harry up. What annoyed Harry even more was that it was working. His feelings for Louis—both angry and loving—were fiery and passionate, consuming him like a piece of paper and a flame. Having had enough, Harry reached over the table and attempted to snatch the end pieces out of Louis’ hands. He knew that Louis’ wasn’t making any progress on the puzzle—he hadn’t managed to fit together any pieces the entire time they’ve been putting it together—so Harry did what he had to do. At least that’s what he was telling himself. 

 

“Stop it! I’m working!” Louis yelled, wrestling with Harry over the puzzle pieces. They grappled against each other, messing up the pieces already connected (by Harry) and mixing the pieces that were separated (by Harry). They continued to argue and fight until a stern, harsh cough came from the end of the table. They both took a few moments to calm down, looking up at the face of the librarian who ~~seemed to be~~ was very angry. 

 

“Harry Styles! I thought you were better than this, boy. You are acting like a child. This isn’t how you were raised to act, young man.” Louis started to snicker at her words, Harry looking like a young child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “And you! Louis Tomlinson! I know you are the Magi’s son, but that is no excuse for you to act like you are a first year student! The two of you are sixth years—seventeen years old—and you better act like it!” The librarian concluded her rant by stomping off, sitting at her desk while training a cold eye towards the boys, leaving them with a final warning glare. 

 

It took the boys a few moments to start to speak. They sat there in silence, staring at one another, until Louis finally started to laugh. “If only you had seen your face! We just got proper chewed out! C’mon, let’s finish the puzzle.” Harry was shocked at Louis’ sudden change in moods, even more shocked when Louis quickly handed him the final end pieces of the puzzle. They worked for another hour, finishing the puzzle in record time once Louis began to follow Harry’s instructions. Harry remained mainly silent while Louis’ spoke about random things, offering up small comments and advice, regarding both the puzzle and other matters. Louis spoke about his family, due to Harry’s prompting, then his dog, Clifford, and then his plans to walk to town once they finish the puzzle. He recommended that Harry picks out a few movies for them to watch later, as long as Harry is up for it. 

 

When they finally finish the puzzle, Harry allows Louis to return to their room and get ready to leave while he cleans up. Of course, Louis had no trouble accepting this offer. He ran up to their dorm, quickly changing into a sweater, jeans, and his heavy outerwear. Harry made it upstairs just as Louis was pulling on his hat. “I’ll be back in about two hours, alright? Have a super cool movie picked out when I get back!” Louis said, patting Harry’s shoulder as he exits the room. Harry reaches up and touches his shoulder, the sparks of Louis’ touch still dancing across his skin. He sits down on his bed, wondering if Louis might possibly feel the same about him. Harry sighs, he’s fairly sure that Louis is straight. He’s only ever dated Eleanor (Harry just rolls his eyes thinking about it), and he has never really given off those ‘vibes’ to Harry. But, you never know. 

 

While Harry gets some alone time, Louis makes his way to the nearby town. The walk to town is cold, the air pinching Louis’ cheeks and nose pink as it blows by him. He wanted to buy Harry a gift, something to show that Louis was serious about becoming friends. Also because he was guilty that Harry bought him a gift and he never in a million years would have thought to buy Harry something. The town is only about a mile away, and Louis makes it there in fifteen minutes. The snow is falling heavily, crowding his visibility, but also it seems to give the village a very magical aura. Louis snickers at the thought, _A village having more magic than Watford, a school of magic._ He perused through the shops, observing small trinkets and candles, trying to figure out a nice gift to buy Harry. Harry had gotten him a nice pair of socks, something thoughtful but on the more inexpensive side. They were no doubt pricier than a pair of socks at a department store, but not by too much. Louis figured that he better aim for the middle of the teenage price zone. 

 

He meandered through a few more shops, making quick discussion with the storekeepers and other customers, before stumbling upon a quaint little shop nestled between two other buildings. It was small—no doubt—but the contents inside were simply wonderful. Louis looked through the glass cases, gazing upon the men’s rings, all of them extremely expensive. Louis sighed, he knew that Harry liked rings, he owned a few that he would wear on the weekends. Their uniforms didn’t allow for much jewelry, so Harry was forced to refrain from wearing them for five days a week. He only owned two, one for his right index and the other for his right middle. Louis wanted to buy him a nice one for his right ring finger, it would make the rest look more complete, but all of the rings were way out of his price range. 

 

“Hello, young man! Welcome to Nelly’s! What are you looking for today? A gift for a girlfriend, perhaps?” An older woman comes bustling out from the back of the shop. Louis has no clue why she is wearing an apron, she works at a jewelry store. She smiles at him brightly, gesturing to the cases. “Anything you are looking for in particular?” She tries again. Louis returns her smile. 

 

“Uh, no girlfriend for me,” For the first time, Louis isn’t sad or ashamed to admit it. “I’m actually looking for a gift for my friend, Harry, but… a lot of the rings are out of my price range.” The woman looks down at her cases, tapping her foot against the ground. 

 

“Well that won’t do! You seem like such a nice young man. Give me a minute,” The woman replies, walking back to a tiny corner of the shop, digging through a few boxes. Louis waits patiently, watching curiously as she searches. “Aha! Here they are!” The woman brings over a glass box displaying five rings on black velvet. Three of them are gold, the others silver. “These are a few of my rings from a few months ago that didn’t sell. I was going to ship them off somewhere to try and earn a dime, but I think that you might need them much more,” The woman concludes, taking off the glass lid. “I can offer one of them to you for a big discount, they are already old models, off trend, so they aren’t worth as much anymore,” She winces at her own words. “I hope that isn’t an issue.” 

 

Louis gapes at her generosity. “Thank you, thank you so much,” Louis graciously says, grinning widely at the woman. A silver ring stands out among the rest of them, the beautiful engraved rose sparkling up at him. “How much for this one?” Louis points at the ring, desperately hoping it is below forty pounds. He knows that it is still a little on the expensive side, but he knows that it will be worth it. 

 

“Let’s see… Thirty pounds? Roses came and went back in the springtime…” The woman replied, taking the ring out of the case and allowing Louis to hold it. Louis stared down at it, the silver sparkling in the light, quickly making his decision. 

 

“I’ll take it,” Louis says, smiling. He hands over his money and the ring, waiting for it to be packaged. She places the jewelry in a small, red, velvet box, putting that box within another red box adorned with green ribbon. She ties the ribbon in a bow on top, making the gift look very traditionally “Christmas.” When the woman asks if Louis wants the box in a bag, Louis eagerly nods. He doesn’t want Harry to question the gift, because who else would Louis’ be buying it for? If Harry asks, Louis will just say it's some candy for them to eat later during the movie. The woman hands him the bag and grins at him. 

 

“Good luck with your boy,” the woman says, walking him to the door. 

 

Louis gapes at her words. “Oh, no, he’s not my—“ He starts to explain, but the storekeeper cuts him off. 

 

“I know, it’s okay. I understand, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” The woman continues. Louis flushes at her words, wanting to explain that he isn’t dating Harry, and that he has no attraction to him. But as he thinks about it, and he thinks about what he just did. He bought a _ring_ for _Harry_. He thinks about all the times he’s fought Harry, all of the times he’s admired Harry’s smile and eyes. _“Bloody Hell, I have a crush on Harry Styles!”_ Louis thinks to himself, looking back at the woman. 

 

“Thank you, for everything,” He says, smiling graciously. He exited the shop, the woman yelling behind him to take care and to have good luck. He smiles as he walks out of the town, grinning the entire way back to Watford. 

 

##### —

 

When Louis walks into the room, Harry is lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. His face is emotionless, his eyes being the only hint that he is lost in thought. He makes no move to look at Louis when he enters, so Louis knocks on the wall to catch his attention. “Hello, hello, Haz! Haz, may I call you Haz? Did you pick a movie?” Harry looks up at him and smiles. 

 

“Haz… I like it. And… I picked a bunch. Our options are a bit limited though, you know how Watford is.” Harry said, dimples prominent. He stood up, fixing his shirt, and leaned down to a stack of DVDs by his bed. “I’ve got… _The Princess Bride, Thumbelina, Captain America: The First Avenger, She’s All That, Mean Girls,_ and _Love Actually_. There weren’t really any Christmas movies besides _Love Actually_ , so I grabbed that one, and…” Harry blushed. “I just really like the other ones.” 

 

Louis laughed. “You really like Thumbelina and Cinderella, Haz? You are constantly surprising me, you know that?” Louis continued to laugh at Harry’s movie choices, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to care. “They have a tv in the library, don’t they?” Louis asked. Turns out, Harry had already organized that part. He had asked a professor for one of their old tv’s that roll on those weird carts, and because Harry is such a model student, the professor complied (after Harry agreed to grade papers for a week). 

 

Harry left to go retrieve the television, leaving Louis to pick the first movie. He quickly hid Harry’s gift under his bed, opting to gift it to him tomorrow night, on Christmas Day. Louis quickly realized that they would probably only have time for three or four of the movies, mostly because they have yet to eat dinner. Louis chooses to watch _Thumbelina, Captain America,_ and _The Princess Bride_ , leaving _She’s All That, Mean Girls,_ and _Love Actually_ for tomorrow. 

 

From the point that Harry returns on, the rest of the night flies by. They watch Thumbelina and then head to dinner at six o’clock, taking their time so that they wouldn’t finish the movies too soon. They quickly learned that that wouldn’t be a problem, and that between the two of them conversation flows very well. They bantered and laughed, having a few small spats of frustration but nothing the two of them can’t handle. They finish dinner, laughing together as they climb the stairs, making it back to their room sated and elated. They finish the other two movies, giggling throughout while making silly comments to one another. It’s incredible how well they get on—it’s incredible that they never found that out before. 

 

They change into pajamas, blushing as they do so, and climb into their beds. “Goodnight Lou,” Harry says, smiling at him from the opposite wall. It was amazing to him how quickly he and Louis were able to kindle a friendship, how quickly Louis was able to forgive Harry for kissing Eleanor (even though it was more so Eleanor kissing Harry against Harry’s will). 

 

“Goodnight Haz,” Louis responds, grinning back at Harry. The hardest thing for Louis, when becoming friends with Harry, was forgetting about Eleanor. He had come to terms that he and Eleanor were over—he wasn’t even sad anymore, in fact, he really fancied Harry—but he couldn’t help but feel a little sorrowful that they ended the way they did. He realized that it wasn’t Harry’s fault—that Harry hadn’t wildly seduced Eleanor and convinced her to leave Louis. No, instead Eleanor grabbed Harry and used him as an excuse to dump Louis. It was Eleanor’s unadulterated decision to break up with Louis, completely uninfluenced by Harry’s words. That was the hardest pill for Louis to swallow. It had been a couple weeks, but during those weeks Louis was finding it easy to blame Eleanor’s cruelty on Harry, mostly because he had no idea how sweet and caring Harry actually was. 

 

The two boys turn away from one another, nestling under their blankets trying to stay warm. Both of them unknowingly fall asleep to thoughts of one another, dreaming peacefully only to wake up blissfully on Christmas morning. 

 

##### —

 

Louis woke up excited and full of life. He wiggled his toes, snug and warm inside the socks Harry bought him, smiling down at the end of his bed. He looked over at Harry’s bed, wondering if he had woken up yet, only to find that it was empty. He slipped out of bed, choosing to take a shower and wait for Harry to return before getting breakfast.

 

After his shower, Louis quickly got ready, pulling on a dark green sweater and some very flattering and _tight_ black jeans. He waited for Harry for about an hour, rifling through his drawers and calling his mother. After the call, a call that took _forty-five minutes_ (bless Louis’ mother but the woman could talk), Louis decided to head down to breakfast. He ate quickly, shoveling sausage, eggs, and pancakes onto his plate and scarfing them down. He stared into the halls of the school, looking curiously around as to find Harry’s whereabouts. 

 

Louis hoped that Harry didn’t regret spending time with him, and that Harry didn’t want them to resume being enemies. Louis hoped that Harry was doing something ridiculous like schoolwork or exercise. _“Maybe he’ll be in the room when I get back…”_ Louis thought to himself, climbing the stairs. When he entered the room, Harry was still missing. Louis sighed, sitting down on his bed, wondering what to do. _“Should I look for him? Give him space?”_

 

Just as Louis was deciding to leave the room and start the search for Harry, the door opened. Harry walked in like he hadn’t been missing since before Louis woke up, and Louis just stared at him unamused as he went to sit on his own bed. “Good morning Lou, Merry Christmas,” Harry said, smiling slightly at Louis as he took off his shoes. Louis could hardly hear him, thoughts questioning where Harry had been circling through his brain like a merry-go-round. 

 

“Where were you?” Louis immediately asks, staring Harry in the eye. He tries not to be abrasive, he really does, but he had been waiting for Harry for hours. He wanted them to have breakfast together… he wanted to have a Christmas just like the ones at home. He thought that Harry might like that too, that Harry would want a ‘family’ Christmas as well. 

 

“I grabbed some food and worked out for a little while. Practiced some spells,” Harry responds, paying Louis no mind. It frustrates Louis a little bit, and he really wants the two of them to have a very, _merry_ Christmas. Louis tries to shake it off, wanting to keep the peace between them. They had gotten on so well yesterday, and Harry is right fit, so Louis feels it best that he stays on Harry’s good side. Even if Harry is straight, he would still try to be nice to Harry. Louis could always use more friends (although Louis would _much_ prefer for them to be a little bit more than that). 

 

“Oh… Okay. Well, what do you want to do? I was thinking that we could watch the movies tonight after dinner, so we should probably find something else to do until then. It’s about twelve fifteen right now so…” Louis starts, looking to Harry. He really hopes that Harry will suggest something to do rather than let Louis decide everything. Louis doesn’t want it to feel like he is forcing this on Harry, he wants it to be mutual. 

 

“It’s snowing,” Harry states, looking out the window. Louis rolls his eyes, wanting to make a snarky comment about how that is completely unhelpful. So he does. “Oh, piss off,” Harry responds, rolling his eyes pointedly at Louis. “I meant that maybe we could go on a walk? We don’t have to go to town, or maybe we could, and get some tea or something.” Louis actually smiles at the idea, thinking that that might not be so bad. Sure, it’s cold as all hell out there, but maybe a walk with Harry would be nice. They would have time to talk, to share, and maybe Louis would learn a little bit more about Harry. 

 

“That sounds great!” Louis said, grinning at Harry. Harry smiled back as Louis asked, “Now?” Harry nodded and they both got to work. They shrugged on their coats and their gloves, pulling on their hats to keep themselves warm. Harry pulled on a fancy pair of waterproof hiking boots, Louis feeling a little silly as he pulled on some heavy, fuzzy snow boots. They walked out of Watford together, Harry informing a staff member at the entrance of their plans. They always wanted to make sure their students were safe, one of the only things Louis actually appreciated about Watford, mostly because the Humdrum is still around. 

 

They walked around the courtyard, quickly deciding that they should head to the village. They walked the path to the town, conversing about their plans for later in the day, their classes, and some of the other kids at school. Louis tried to coax information out of Harry, bring up Liam or Zayn or Stan to try and bring out some of Harry’s cooperation. But Harry didn’t say a word about his own friends, only prompting Louis to keep talking about his own. It was the same in almost all of their conversations; Harry wouldn’t mention anything from his personal life, only providing small comments about Louis’ friends and family. The only way that Louis could get Harry to talk was by bringing up school. Harry could gush on and on about his favorite studies, rambling about his favorite professors. It made Louis want to choke to be quite honest, but in some ways, it brought him a little bit of hope. Maybe opposites _do_ attract. 

 

“I wouldn’t say that I—emm—have a singular favorite professor… because, um, they all work really hard, and well… It’s a little unfair to just choose one… They all wish for our success… And they are all pretty genuine and kind… so…” Harry speaks, slowly and a little unsurely. Louis chokes on his own spit, alarming Harry and his wide, doe eyes. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Harry bombards him with an onslaught of questions, grabbing Louis’ shoulders and examining his face. 

 

“Harry, Harry, Hazza! I’m fine! You’re just a total nerd!” Louis exclaims, grabbing Harry’s shoulders. The cold air has caused them both to flush, cheeks and noses tinted bright pink. Their eyes were glossy, glaring into one another’s with the utmost passion and freedom of young love. Of course, the two of them didn’t quite know that yet. 

 

“You… just scared me… because I’m a nerd?” Harry asked, pausing dramatically between each couple of words, advancing intimidatingly towards Louis. Louis’ arms dropped from Harry’s shoulders, squealing as Harry approached him. “I’ll show you nerd!” Harry exclaimed before pouncing on Louis. Louis shrieked when Harry dug his long fingers into his sides, effectively causing him to twist and spasm. Harry’s hands continues their attack on Louis, leading him to wheeze and choke with laughter. 

 

“Hazza! Harry! Mercy!” Louis screamed, falling onto the ground. Harry followed him down, landing on top of him but somehow not crushing Louis. He braced himself with his forearms, lifting himself up with one arm while continuing his assault on Louis with the other hand. Louis screeched and squealed, squirming underneath Harry’s body. His reaction effectively brought a wide, genuine smile to Harry’s face as well as a few giggles. 

 

“Say I’m not a nerd…. Call… Call me a jock!” Harry squawked, laughing in between words. Louis continued to roll in the snow, scarf and coat protecting his skin from the icy perpetrator. “Call me a jock! A sporty, tough, athletic jock!” Harry screamed again, changing the position of his fingers and targeting the center of Louis’ stomach instead. This seems to be Louis’ soft point, as if the rest of his body wasn’t already incredibly ticklish. 

 

“I yield! I yield! Harry is a… a tough, sporty jock!” Louis screeched, body convulsing wildly at the effect of Harry’s hands. If he had the slightest capability of thinking straight right now, he would think of some other ways Harry might make him squirm with his fingers. At Louis’ words, Harry only dug in further. 

“Louder! Say it louder!” Harry repeated, providing Louis absolutely no mercy. Louis felt like he could die there, surrounded by Harry and the outdoors. His skin was hot, almost burning, the cool air doing nothing to relax him. His head was thrashing, his eyes only catching glimpses of pink cheeks and curls. 

 

“Harry is a tough jock! The sportiest! Super fit!” Louis exclaimed, panting and wheezing hysterically. Harry finally concluded his rapid attack, resting above Louis but not making any move to roll off of him. His hands and knees were keeping him from making any real contact with Louis, despite the fact that he had him pinned. As they calmed down from their high, they realized the sexual subtlety of their position, causing Harry’s cheeks to transform from a beautiful, subtle pink to a flaming red. 

 

They stared at each other for minutes, catching their breaths. Once Louis was fully relaxed, he realized how freezing the cool snow was against his body. He coughed and looked at Harry, skin heating to match Harry’s cheeks. “We should uh… Get going.” Louis said, not moving an inch. Harry licked his lips, continuing to gaze into Louis glazed, blue eyes. He seemingly awoke from a trance, immediately rolling off of Louis and standing up. They stood there awkwardly after Harry grabbed Louis’ hand to help him get up, Harry not immediately releasing Louis. Once he did, they started to walk, silently and _awkwardly_ towards the village. 

 

“So… I’m fit, huh?” Harry teased, nudging Louis’ arm. Louis face became even brighter than before, skin feeling like it was on fire. Harry started to laugh at Louis’ reaction, his own skin growing redder. Harry was flattered, he felt good that Louis thought he was attractive. He knows that Louis’ favorable opinions of his looks don’t necessarily mean that Louis likes him the way Harry likes Louis, but it’s a start. 

 

Harry is released from his thoughts when he feels Louis’ two hands push abruptly against his shoulder. “Sod off! I was under pressure! I would have said anything!” Louis explains as Harry stumbles. Somehow, Harry isn’t even angry when he lands in the snow. He just laughs at Louis’ ranting, eyes filling with hysterical tears. 

 

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Harry answers sarcastically, continuing to cackle. Louis rolls his eyes and helps Harry up, smacking Harry’s arm to get him to stop laughing. “Alright, alright. Let’s go, it’s freezing,” Harry suggests, grabbing Louis’ arm and dragging him behind him. Louis follows obediently—much to Harry’s surprise— and they finally reach the town within the next ten minutes. They walk into the village, eyeing the doors before groaning aloud. 

 

“It’s Christmas Day! How could we forget that most of the shops are closed!” Louis exclaims, looking around the village. Harry subconsciously rubs his hand comfortingly up and down Louis’ arm. 

 

“There’s got to be something open. C’mon,” Harry reasons, grabbing ahold of Louis’ hand. Louis glances down at their intertwined fingers, lips pressing together fondly. Harry leads him around the town, searching for a store whose windows are lit up. They finally reach a small brick building at the end of the block, the lights inside shining through the large windows. Harry grins and tugs on Louis’ arm, Louis smiling as they move towards the shop. As the enter the store, the warm air hits their cold, pink faces, warming them to comfort. Harry still doesn’t let go of Louis’ hand, taking in their surroundings. 

 

Small tables littered the larger, front-most space of the shop, save for a small space in front of the counter. A large menu hangs above the counter, an employee standing and smiling underneath it. The woman is on the older side, maybe in her sixties, smiling brightly with pink cheeks. “Oh, hello boys! Didn’t think I’d get much company today!” She greets them, walking until she’s in front of the cash register. “Welcome to Maudie’s, what can I get for you?” 

 

The two boys glance at the menu, taking in their options. They come to an unsaid agreement that they should stay, besides, they could use a bit of tea to warm them up. They both place their orders—a Yorkshire tea for Louis and a black coffee with cream for Harry—and Harry manages to convince Louis to let him pay. If Louis didn’t know any better, he would think this was a date. But it isn’t. So Louis complains in Harry’s ear about how Harry’s a “fake Brit” and a “fraud” because what kind of Englishman drinks black coffee instead of tea? Harry just smiles into his warm mug as Louis rants, nodding along to every word that exits Louis’ mouth. Harry glances to the side, wondering where the woman from before went off to, before realizing that she was standing right there at the end of the counter, staring right at the pair. She was clutching her chest, smiling at them with pink cheeks. She noticed Harry looking at her, so she rushed to explain herself. 

 

“Oh no sweetie. You two just warm my heart! You boys are so adorable together. Oh, young love!” The woman gushes, bustling around behind the counter. She grabs a red velvet cupcake from a glass display case, also taking two forks and a napkin. She organizes the items on the boys’ table, setting the forks to the side with the cupcake on the napkin. “Here you go boys, on the house! Merry Christmas!” 

 

Before the guys could interrupt—mostly to tell her that they aren’t romantically involved—she scurries to the back room of the shop. Louis giggles at her antics, unwrapping the cupcake and grabbing a fork. “Well, at least we got a free cupcake, huh?” Louis states, making light of the awkward situation. He stuffs his mouth full of the sweet treat, moaning as the frosting hits his tongue. Harry stares at him silently, eyes trained on Louis’ mouth as his tongue swirls around the fork. He pulls his eyes away, face burning, and grabs a fork. He takes small bites of the cupcake, allowing Louis to eat the majority of the treat. 

 

Louis continues to tease Harry, his motives showing through. When he first took a bite of the cake, he really wasn’t thinking of seducing Harry. But as soon as he saw that first reaction—that very intense, striking, green-eyed stare—he knew what he had to do. He swirls his tongue around his fork, pulling it in and out of his mouth. He continues to make low, breathy noises, glancing at Harry through hooded eyelids. His eyelashes dance across his cheeks, teeth torturing his bottom lip. “I think…” Harry starts, staring intently at Louis’ bitten lip. “I think it’s about time we leave.” 

 

Louis smirks, nodding at Harry’s assertion. They both get up, thanking the woman as they leave. As soon as they exit the cafe, Harry immediately pulls Louis into an alleyway. He pushes Louis against one of the buildings, trapping him between his arms. “You were doing that on purpose, weren’t you,” Harry whispered huskily into Louis’ ear. Louis gasped as he was rough handled, cheeks heating once again, but not from the cold. 

 

“Yes,” Louis whispered breathily. At this response, Harry grips his waist harshly, leaning forward. His eyes penetrated Louis’ passionately, saying thousands of words within seconds. His lips brush over Louis’, but never quite touch them. Louis can feel Harry’s breath on his cheek, tempting Louis to close the gap and finally kiss him already. 

 

Harry speaks before Louis can join their lips. “I think…” Harry rasps, leaning even closer, if that is even possible. “I think we should head back to school.” It doesn’t sound like a rejection—not to Louis—instead, it feels like a promise. A promise regarding what’s to come. Louis nods, Harry backing away and grabbing his hand. Without saying a word, it feels as if they are finally on the same page. Louis can’t help but feel a little insecure. What if Harry is just using him for sex? Just an object to help him work off some steam? Louis doesn’t think that he would be able to handle it. But, as strange as it is, he trusts Harry. 

 

They walk hand in hand the entire way, not speaking a word. The silence isn’t unwelcome or uncomfortable. The atmosphere around them is profound and serene, but that doesn’t mean that their hearts aren’t beating out of their chests. The staff doesn’t blink an eye as they enter, so the boys trudge up to their bedrooms to change. It’s about two thirty when they return, leaving them with four hours before they should leave to go to dinner. They choose to do a puzzle in the library, and maybe—if Harry could help it—some schoolwork. 

 

The time passes by quickly, the pair interchanging banter and conversation naturally. Louis follows along with Harry’s ‘strategies,’ rolling his eyes a few times at Harry’s suggestions, but following along nevertheless. The only reminder of the events in the town were the lingering gazes of each other’s eyes, trained on each other’s lips. They share suggestive glances, smirking at one another knowingly. Before they know it, it is time for dinner. 

 

They don’t bother changing out of their t-shirts and sweats—they _are_ teenage boys—so they head to the cafeteria. Louis gasps when he enters, subconsciously grabbing ahold of Harry’s arm. Gold-embroidered red table clothes adorned every table, candles sitting on each. Louis wonders why the staff covered every single table—everybody knows that only Louis and Harry are staying. But, to put it simply, the room looked beautiful. The Christmas decorations hung high from the ceiling, enlightening the room with a joyful, warm atmosphere. 

 

“C’mon, let’s eat,” Harry says, leading Louis to the buffet tables while taking in his surroundings. Harry agreed with Louis—although it was unspoken—that the room was gorgeous. Harry genuinely was _never_ a holiday person, save for when his mother was alive. The atmosphere, along with Louis, warms his heart the tiniest bit, filling him with the Christmas spirit. They packed their plates—Harry choosing strangely small portions—and at down. They made small talk throughout most of dinner, Harry’s ears perking when Louis’ provided an interesting proposition. 

 

“Maybe we could watch the movies down in the lobby by the big Christmas tree,” Louis suggests, looking up at Harry. Harry’s face brightens, visibly awakening. 

 

“That sounds amazing, really Lou,” Harry replies, dimples deepening. The conversation becomes giddy, the two of them acting like schoolchildren with a crush (which, in a way, they are). They quickly finish their food, rushing to clean up their dishes and run to their dorm. They decide to wear pajamas into the lobby, opting to have a true movie night. Harry rolls the television down to the tree, Louis collecting blankets and pillows to create a comfortable fort. They meet each other under the tree, and they quickly organize the blankets and pillows into a circular nest. The circle isn’t quite big enough for the two of them to have their own, personal space, but neither of them seemed to mind. 

 

Promptly after inserting _Mean Girls_ into the DVD player, Harry flops into their fort and tucks Louis under his arm. Louis blushes at this action, but snuggles into Harry’s shoulder nonetheless. If Louis cared, he would be thinking that they were moving a little fast. But Louis didn’t care. He really liked Harry, and Harry was quite the charmer. He desperately hoped that this wasn’t just a ‘Winter Break Fling,’ and that Harry actually likes him. They watched the entirety of _Mean Girls_ and _She’s All That_ , promptly moving on to _Love Actually_. Harry didn’t mention to Louis that this was his favorite movie, and that he was so _incredibly_ happy to be here with Louis. 

 

They continued to cuddle until the iconic ‘To Me, You Are Perfect,’ scene appeared on the screen. Andrew Lincoln stood outside in the cold, professing his love through the romantic writing on stark, white signs. Louis took Harry’s preoccupation as a chance to pull the gift he had bought yesterday out from behind his back. “Haz?” Louis asked, trying to get Harry’s attention. Harry turned to look at Louis, opening his mouth to prompt him. 

 

“Yes Lou?” Harry prods, resting a hand on Louis’ thigh. Louis flushes, pulling the green and red box from behind his back. 

 

For once in Louis’ life, he kept his explanation short and sweet. “I got you a gift… I really hope you like it. Merry Christmas, Hazza.” Harry gaped at the present in Louis’ hands. He grasped the box, holding it in his shaky hands. He would never tell Louis—at least, not for a very long time—that this was the first gift he had ever received since he moved away to Watford. Silent tears filled his eyes when he finally looked up from the gift. 

 

“Thank you. Thank you so, so much,” Harry says, almost in a whisper. Louis nods, quietly spurring Harry on to open the present. “I’m going, I’m going,” Harry rasps, quietly chuckling. His fingers shake as he opens the box, eyes widening at the sight of the jewelry case. More specifically, a case usually used to protect a ring. “Oh Lou…” He opens the box, choking up at the sight of the jewelry. The bright lights of the Christmas tree reflect off of the silver metal, the rose engraving prominent. “Lou… It’s beautiful.” Harry pulls the ring from the box, slipping it onto his right ring finger. “I love it, I really do.” 

 

When their eyes meet, it’s like time stops. The world spins in slow motion, and the only people on earth are Harry and Louis. Harry reaches up, hand clasping behind Louis’ neck. Louis, in turn, reaches to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, the other in Harry’s curls. They both lean forward, looking into each other’s eyes before finally joining their lips. 

 

It’s five years of passion exploding before their eyes. All of the tension from the past years alleviating all at once, but building up to new heights at the same time. It’s like Eleanor never existed, like its Louis’ first kiss, like he’s learning what affection and intensity feels like for the first time. It’s intense, devoted, desperate, and _explosive_. It’s emotion; the sparks of young love dancing between their lips. Harry falls back against the pillows, dragging Louis down with him. His knees fall on either side of Harry’s hips, hands on either side of Harry’s head. Harry’s hand creeps down to Louis’ waist, firmly grasping it. They kiss for minutes on end, making up for all of the time they have lost together. 

 

“BOYS! Either take it to your room or relax on the PDA!” The voice shocks both Harry and Louis out of their trance, causing the boys to jump away from one another. Louis lands harshly on his bum, causing him to wince. They look up only to see a very stern, very angry librarian. “You two heard me didn’t you? If I catch you two snogging one more time then you’ll both receive detention!” The librarian retreats down the hall, heels clacking against the marble flooring. 

 

The pair looks at each other with red cheeks. They stare at each other silently, only lasting seconds before breaking into large grins. “Did you see her face!” Exclaims Louis, cackling hysterically. He rolled onto his side, squinted eyes trained on Harry. Harry was also laughing, leaning back against the large wall of the school 

 

“She… was so… mad! Oh my god!” Harry shouts, swinging his arm over his stomach. The two of them laugh together, every time they pause becoming another opportunity to burst into giggles. The finally settle, choosing to go back up to their room. They gather their blankets, pillows, and the television, lugging all of the supplies up the stairs and into their dormitory. They repair their beds silently, both of them pondering everything that they have to say to one another while pulling the sheets over the mattresses and covering them with the duvets. When everything is sorted out—as much as two teenage boys _can_ sort something out—they turn to face one another. 

 

“So…” Louis starts, but Harry is already one step ahead of him. Before Louis can question what they are doing, what they are to one another, Harry is pulling him in for another deep kiss. This one is calmer, sweeter, and patient. It isn’t forceful, but that doesn’t mean it is any less passionate. They break away after a few minutes, Harry feeling like they should actually talk. 

 

“I really like you.” Harry states, holding onto Louis’ shoulder and waist. “I really do.” His eyes break from Louis’, looking instead at his own shoes. “I mean…” His voice cracks, causing him to shake his head. “I’ve liked you since the minute the Crucible assigned us into the same room, Lou.” Harry continues his rant, not quite yet allowing Louis to speak. “I know I was… a bit of a prick these past few years. I mean, in the beginning I was just frustrated. I had just moved, lost my mom, and I…” He covers his face with his hand, closing his eyes. “I know it isn’t an excuse, but I was scared. Confused. I was acting out, taking out my anger on you. You didn’t… You didn’t deserve it. We both know that. And I’m… I’m so sorry.” By the end of his speech, Harry is shaking. He doesn’t want to mess up what he and Louis have, he had been waiting for this opportunity for so long. 

 

Louis’ gentle voice breaks him out of his panic. “Harry, Hazza,” Louis starts, stroking Harry’s arm. “It’s okay, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not like I was any better, right? I’m not exactly innocent here.” They laugh as all of the gruesome pranks Louis has pulled throughout the years cross through their minds. “I mean, after you turned me into a real life smurf, I turned you into a real life cat hybrid. One of the only spells I’ve ever casted that came out exactly the way I had planned,” He laughs at the memory. “You hadn’t been able to get rid of those ears for weeks, much less the tail. I mean, I had Liam get rid of the color bit by bit over the course of a few days but…” Louis cuts himself off, feeling himself digressing. “I like you too. I do.” He strokes Harry’s arm comfortingly, feeling Harry release a breath of relief. “Harry, I mean, look at you. You’re beautiful, smart, hilarious… A total dork but hilarious. I like you… and you like me too?” 

 

“I do, god yes I do,” Harry sputters, holding on to Louis for dear life.

 

“Then what are you waiting for?” Is Louis’ question. And yeah, what is Harry waiting for? He got the guy. He feels like he just won Homecoming King, if Watford even _had_ Homecoming. He feels like he was just elected Valedictorian, if Watford even _had_ a Valedictorian. But none of that matters, because he has _Louis_. Watford does have Louis, Harry has Louis, and for once in the past five years Harry feels like he has something. 

 

They talk and they share for what feels like hours. Harry tells Louis everything—he trusts him—and he feels like it’s all okay. Everything is okay. So they fall asleep like that, in Harry’s bed, tangled in each other’s arms. They embrace each other in their sleep, knowing that not once would they let each other go. Louis’ head rests on Harry’s chest, Harry’s heartbeat serving as a comforting lullaby to lead him into a serene and tranquil sleep. Because even with the Humdrum on the prowl, even with his family across the ocean, even with Harry not even _having_ a family, it was beginning to look a lot like Christmas. 

>   
>  Christmas waves a magic wand over this world,  
>  And behold,  
>  Everything is softer and more beautiful.  
>  -Norman Vincent Peale  
> 

#### THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it:)
> 
>  
> 
> This work is inspired by and based on “Carry On” by Rainbow Rowell


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